The Cover Up
by LegionInfinity
Summary: Let's get one thing straight before I begin, this may or may not be my story, but that's not stopping you from wanting to know.I can make one thing clear for you, this is a cover up. A scandal of the worse kind. An attempt to prevent people from finding the truth about a serious mistake or crime. The story I'm about to tell you is cloaked in lies and secrecy. Watch your back.
1. Chapter 1: The Cover Up

First of all, I know I'm in a lot of trouble for writing yet another new story, but it's supposed to hold you off until my next release in May, plus it's a birthday present for one of my best friends. HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL! XD Anyway, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's supposed to be a remake to one of my earlier stories, In Others' Personal Affairs, but with a few changes. Please don't hate on my for writing this! I promise it will be worth your while to read, and I'll also have a new update on all my current stories within the week. I SWEAR I WILL DO IT! I HAVE TO! HOLD ME TO THAT NOW! Please R&R!

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Let me get one thing straight before I begin, this may or may not be my story. This could be the story of my next door neighbor, my dog, the postman's story for all you know, but that's not stopping you from wanting to know. But I can make one thing indefinitely clear for you, this is a cover up. A scandal of the worse kind. An attempt to prevent people from discovering the truth about a serious mistake or crime. The story I'm about to tell you is cloaked in lies and secrecy, almost to the point that you can't tell the difference between the lies and the truths, but that doesn't matter. If you are reading this, than it means our plan backfired, it means that my partner and I are in serious trouble. I admit to you know that despite the fact that this might not be my story, Zane and I are mixed up in it. We're in too deep to back away now.

If you saw us on the street, you wouldn't think twice about us. A young couple, something you see about as much as you see the weeds in an abandoned yard. A tall, muscular young man, blond with the most piercing blue eyes you've ever seen in your life. Next to him, a young woman, quite pretty. She was short, tan, with brunette hair that fell down her back with dark eyes to match. Depending on who you are, you may feel remorse, you may feel envy, you may feel the reminder of you're loved one at home, so your eyes waver a bit longer.

It's at that moment you notice the girl, though her expression never changes, her eyes are darting around quickly, as though nervous. And the man, though his naturally light skin makes it hard to tell, is paling in the face. It's upon this realization that you decide against your better judgement to follow these characters, down the sidewalk, across the street, wherever they may lead you. You keep a safe distance, of course, making sure that the woman's constant glances behind her back didn't catch you. As you pass a flower cart, you find yourself instinctively drawn to one of the beautiful bouquets, a mixture of odd white and gray roses. You bend down to take a whiff. The white roses smell sweet, but at the same time bitter, as though the day's sun had hardened their scent. The gray roses smell sour, enough to make you wrinkle your nose in disgust, but you smell something else as well. The gray roses contained a bit of spice, making the gray rose smell quite appealing at the same time disgust forms in your nose, but as you pull away, you smell the two roses scents mix, a smell you can only describe as trouble. And for a split second, the smell reminds you of the two characters you decided to follow and you straighter, your eyes searching the mid-day bustle for your pray, but they are no where to be found. Disappeared as though the wind swept them up and carried them off. You search for a while before giving up, deciding that, though interesting, the characters are not worth your time.

As you continue on your way towards your momentarily forgotten errand, you can't help but feel this sense of dread wash over you, as though your absence has brought a great evil down somewhere, but you shake it off, continuing down the road, your strange characters pushed to the back of your mind. But little did you know, life as you knew it was about to chance, about to disappear right before your very eyes. You wouldn't even have the chance to grab onto a corner before it was snapped out of your reach. But because you followed us, I feel you should have the right to know. That day, we made a deal with the devil. That day, we traded our happiness for the sake of someone who couldn't give a damn what the two of us were doing, but I've rambled on for long enough. You're probably quite confused by my nonsense, aren't you? Well, then I'll start at the beginning with the original scandal. The one that started it all, the one that cost us our livelihood and prime.

The scandal was of dirty innocence. The cover up was of bloody trade. The people before us were a no good thief and a brutal murderer. These people went into retirement long ago, the hero underneath brought into the light, but the evil creatures of the night stayed below, waiting for their chance to strike. Their means to be needed again.

I am Aryan Brookestone. I am a thief and a ruthless assassin by design.

This is Zane Julien. He is a killer, violent and cold down to the core.

Everyone loves a hero, but there's nothing like a good villain to even out the score.


	2. Chapter 2: The Mask of Illusion

Lies can be one of two things. It could be a mask, hiding the things you don't want to be seen, or it could be an illusion. Every illusion begins as a mask, but slowly, every lie that passes across your lips begins to soften them. You begin to get lost in your lies until you know nothing else, until you believe them yourself. I mentioned before this story would be filled with lies, but it's your job to determine which category they fall in.

This chapter is filled with lies and scheming. It's filled with dirty games and tricks. You might hate us by the end, our story hitting too close to home. But enough of my build up. It's time to begin. It's time to learn the possible truths and lies.

It started one warm May evening, one that everyone in Ninjago would remember. It was a day when you probably woke up early, hearing the birds chirping in the blue sky until a rumbling ceased their song. The Great Devourer. A snake of gargantuan proportion that wanted to eat the city for early morning brunch. Chances are if you saw that, you also saw me. Dressed in a gray supposed to be silver. Fighting against the force that wished to do you harm, but this story doesn't start there. It starts the day after, at 1 a.m, a time most commonly referred to as the witching hour. My home had been destroyed, now residing in one of the only large hotels still standing, along with about half the population of the city. The hotel was nice, in one of the richer areas of the city, but it wasn't home. Now, I was far away from that part of the city, long since shed my uniform, swapped for some of our freshly bought clothes. My choice had been a pair of jeans and one of the hoodies purchased for my boyfriend.

As I walked alone the dirty, slimy back alley, my mind wandering, I couldn't help but notice that tonight, I hadn't been stopped yet. Normally, I would have been stopped dozens of times by greasy perverts who wanted a piece of the sixteen year old girl, walking alone. Honestly, it was if fate wanted me to see what I saw, no distractions, no fights. I had long since pulled up my hood, corners of my dark hair falling out from the white shield. With a quick hand, I worked my phone out from my back pocket, one of my only personal items to survive the attack. I frowned at the blank screen. No new messages. No missed calls. For a second, I recall thinking about turning back, a feeling of dread creeping up my spine. Zane should have noticed my absence by now, but my feeling was pushed back my the reminder that we were all exhausted. It was natural for us to overlook things in our current state of mind. I leaned up against one of the narrow brick walls, flipping quickly through my phone. A normal person would be worried about it being stolen, but I practically wrote the book of thievery. They wouldn't get far.

I believe it's important for you to understand that what happened next was such a surprise, it felt like a bullet to my chest. Hollow, cold, filled with gunpowder for maximum damage, when you would have been killed on impact. I believe it was only for a moment, one moment I directed my attention away from my phone and to the drunken chatter around me. One moment. That was all it took to ruin the life I thought was perfectly imperfect. In that one moment, I heard many voices, but one pulled my attention away entirely.

"There was a shitty motel right near the hotel, why did we have to sneak all the way out here?" My eyes, corners dried from lack of sleep, darted up and around. I was a notoriously nosy person, but that day, that wasn't what interested me. I recognized the voice, not barely, all the way. I knew who it was.

"Yes, there was. But this way, we have a better chance of not being caught." The voices were getting closer and I quickly looked back down, sliding the phone into the oversized sleeve of the hoodie, it's cold plastic body pressed up against my wrist. I glanced down at the feet as they passed me, my attention more on their words.

"Why hide? You know he isn't that bright. We could do this in the next room and he wouldn't notice." The first voice spoke again, her words cold and harsh instead of warm and cheery as they normally were.

"It's not him I'm worried about." The man said, a hint of scorn in his gentle tone. "She always seems to be in the right place at the right time. She always seems to know, and I bet she might by the end of the week."

"Not if we keep it hidden well enough." I blinked twice as their footsteps headed down to the end of the alley. Waiting a moment after they disappeared, I made my feet move, slowly and quickly. The man had a been taking about a girl earlier, and I only knew of one he could have been referring to at that moment in time. At the time, I remember thanking my lucky stars that I had decided to be in that alley at that time. I felt like fate was trusting me with some great secret.

I followed them slowly around the corner, seeing the musty old building in front of me. The couple was a way away, in front of one of the many small buildings off of the main one. The young man pulled out a key from his pocket, reaching to unlock the room. With a small burst of speed, I sped over towards a small nook, close enough to see them. Close enough to hear their conversation.

You're probably wondering if I'm stupid, it's quite obvious what these two people are doing. Why do you continue to follow if you know? Well, here's the kicker, I AM stupid. And I was angry. What they were doing, it would have pulled my family apart. I followed them. I did something that would have normally made me cringe.

When I reached my hidden nook, I could feel my heart pounding, wishing more than anything I hadn't chosen to wear white on that particular night. As I ran, the boy turned toward me. He saw me out of the corner of his eye. I sat tightly against the wall, feeling my chest rise and fall until his suspicion vanished. After about a minute, decided it wasn't worth it to risk myself being seen. With nimble fingers, I remember working my phone out from the sleeve, tapping the camera button as I went. Sticking my phone out only slightly, enough for the camera to see around the corner, I quickly used the screen to focus it onto the two people.

The man had bent over, about to unlock the door when the girl stopped him. "Look, I'm so tired of hiding our relationship in public." She grabbed the short sleeves of his t-shirt. "I want you right now." The man gave her a seductive smile, almost enough to make me gag. Grabbing her waist, he pulled her quickly towards him, smashing his mouth against hers.

I was prepared for that, but when it came, I couldn't help but let my jaw drop. And almost as if some ungodly force was controlling me, I brought my finger down on the phones screen, hearing the shutter echo through the empty corner. I didn't need to check to see what I did. I blinked twice, turning my attention back to the couple.

With his other hand, the boy managed to get the key into the hole, pushing the door open with a creak. They walked in, their tongues in one another's mouths the entire time. The door slammed shut. The blinds on the window in the room, fluttered a bit in the hustle, but to my surprise, they didn't close.

It was at that moment it popped into my mind, the image I was imagining enough to make me gag. The idea in my mind was imprinted. It was sick, but at that moment, I remember not caring. Looking across the small, broken road for any people, I quickly darted across, dropping on my stomach as I neared the window. I crawled over with the deadly precision I had developed over the years, finally sitting down when my back was pressed against the dirty wall underneath the window. I closed my eyes, hugging my phone to my chest. This was crazy, not to mention illegal, but when was anything I had ever done legal? With a shaking hand, I pressed the camera button making the now dark screen light up again. With a wrist as quick as lightning, I shot my arm up before I could change my mind, making sure it was steady. I heard the shutter go off and I pulled it back down. With a deep breath, I began to flip through my pictures until I got to the one I needed.

I tried hard not to focus on the action in the picture, instead I focused on the faces. I felt my anger begin to surge as I attempted to calm myself down, but I was no use. My best friend's hair was all messed up, her face twisted into a expression of pure...never-mind, it doesn't matter. But the face I was focused on was the other, the face I had known since birth. For a moment, I went back to our childhood, our negligent father, our abusive mother. But that was no excuse for this. Cole was not Nya's boyfriend.

This scandal was the first. This was not my fight, yet I covered it up when I should have told them. I didn't. I don't know why. I covered up their crime. I convinced Zane to help me. That was the beginning of the cover up. That was the beginning of the end.

And as I sat there, under that dirty motel window, I heard three quiet words erupt from the anger I felt inside. "Got you, jackasses."


	3. Chapter 3: The Monster of the Aftermath

**Sorry I have been updating this story more than The Silver Ninja of Energy. Its just that I'm trying to put everything I can into each chapter, so they're significantly longer. I write for an hour every evening and I'm still not near done. I promise a new update will be up soon, but for now, this ought to hold you over. :)**

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The world that we now live in, it's absolute madness. Even more now that everyone is under a strict curfew. All internet has been shut down, everyone must now report where and who their spending the night with. With all that insanity, chances are the only thing you have left to do is read the newspaper. There are only two headlines now a days, the ever running lists of the missing, and The Knowing.

The shiver that runs down your spine when you hear that name is eminent, but it's everywhere. On posters. TV. Social media. The graffiti in the dark Eye of The Knowing, with its long, dark pupil and red iris, the symbol of the monster of the Aftermath. But I'm here to help you sleep at night. The Knowing won't touch you. I could tell you The Knowing isn't a killer, but that would be a lie, but The Knowing hasn't killed anyone yet. The Knowing isn't a murderous psychopath. The Knowing is a blackmailer, always has been. I never meant for it to go this far.

The Knowing was a threat. A scare tactic. They wouldn't stop. I couldn't make them. So I tried something new, and it backfired. Once an anonymous blackmailer, a bystander with motives unclear. With one wrong move, I became a homicidal maniac, bent on ruining a perfect couple's happiness. They went into witness protection, and I became The Knowing. Zane and I became The Knowing. Together, we became the enemy. Hunted by the people we protected from harm.

The Knowing sees all. The beginning and the end. Time to learn how Ninjago's honored hero became Ninjago's greatest criminal.

* * *

I think I ran all they way back to the hotel, the hollow sounds of the rubber soles of my boots hitting against the cracked pavement, echoing off the empty walls. My hood had long since slipped off my head, my hair, in desperate need of a wash, flying behind me like a cape, but I certainly didn't deserve a cape now. The hotel, now the tallest building in Ninjago, rising up above me was meant to give the city hope. It gave me a darker sense of purpose. As I neared the street I needed to turn down to reach the entrance, it began to absolutely pour. By the time I ran into the lobby, I was sopping wet, hair and clothes glued to my body. Luckily for me, the lobby was completely empty, the employees also staying until the city was rebuilt. Taking off my shoes and setting them by the door, as not to leave incriminating foot prints that would tie me to the crime, I walked around the desk. Pulling open drawers and riffling through papers, I began to pick up things I was looking for, the things I needed I hoped they wouldn't notice. My fingers knew exactly what to do, only touching the things I needed, no fingerprints anywhere else, using my sleeves to open drawers. As I struggled to stuff the large box into the pocket on my sweatshirt, my mind finally managed to register the sense of discomfort I had been feeling since I walked in. My eyes traced up the wall until they fell on the black camera connected to the wall.

"Shit." I mumbled quietly as I pulled the box back out of my pocket and set it on the desk. Pushing my finger down on top until the box popped open, I gingerly pulled out a pair of the latex gloves, stolen from the first aid department. Slapping them on, I logged into the computer under another name, the first one that popped up on the roster. It took me no time at all to hack into the account, the password was 1234. My eyes scanned the nearly empty desktop until they fell on the icon labeled "Security camera feed." With one quick click, I pulled up the listings of the documented footage, clicking on the footage from tonight at 10, which was listed as still recording. I grabbed the icon and began to pull it towards the trash can when the thought crashed down on me. Leaving it on the desktop, I clicked on it twice, pulling up the live feed. It felt a bit odd to see myself looking down at the camera, but that wasn't what I was here for. Letting my pointer fall down towards the fast forward and reverse buttons, I began to scrub backwards until I reached 12:12 p.m, where movement at the door caught my eye. A couple, walked out the door slowly, but one even had the courtesy to turn around and stare right at the camera. She grabbed Cole's sleeve and pointed up towards it. The feed had no sound, but I was quiet adept at reading lips.

"Cole, there's a camera." She said, the look in her eyes panicked. He made a slight gesture, waving her off.

"Don't worry, no one ever checks those things." He said as he grabbed her hand gently. "Let's go." As they left, I found myself silently applauding Cole's stupidity as I opened the drawer next to the desk, taking out one of the souvenir USB drives in the desk, complete with the hotel logo and wrapped in thin plastic, I ripped off the plastic and inserted the drive, hearing the small ping of sound as the drive was registered by the computer and popped up on the desktop. With one swift move, I grabbed the camera icon and dragged it towards the empty folder. I watched silently as the loading bar danced across the screen, until the video was completely copied. Satisfied with my work, I ejected the drive and dragged the video to the trash can, then emptied it. The video was deleted from the computer's memory forever. I logged out and walked back around the desk, grabbing the box and peeling off the gloves, throwing them in a nearby trashcan. I walked towards the elevator, but backpedaled quickly, walking back towards the trashcan. I set the larger box back down and pulled out the smaller on in my pocket.

"Cole might not be that good at covering his tracks," I mumbled to myself as I struck a match, "but I am." I dropped the match into the can, watching the shadows dance on the wall as the whole thing went up in flames. Moving quickly, I picked up my shoes from the door and walked over to the sitting area, grabbing a vase and dumping it's contents onto the fire I had started, leaving the trash as wet ashes. As I walked towards the elevator, I lifted a magazine off the small table and pushed the button.

After about a minute, I got impatient and ran towards the stairs, pushing the door open and letting it close with a small thud. I sprinted up the stairs until I reached the 18th floor, pushing the door open. I walked into the warm colored hallway, the carpet a welcoming feel to my bare feet. My family was the only occupants of this entire floor, our constant coming and goings during the night an irritating habit to the other guests. I walked down the hall to the end, setting my shoes, the box, and the magazine down, pulling out my phone. Popping the case off, I pulled out the slender key card with care, slipping it into the door and pulling it out, making the light turn green. I pushed the door open and grabbed my things, walking in and letting the door shut quietly. I flipped on the light, revealing the small kitchen and living area, our room more of a suite than an actual room. Setting my shoes down by the door, I walked into the kitchen and began to unload myself, a box of latex gloves, a magazine, box of matches, scissors, a glue stick, the flash drive, a carton of computer paper.

A shiver ran up my spine and I remembered that I was in wet clothes. My eyes ran over to the bedroom door, which was shut. It wasn't worth accidentally waking him up, so I walked over and locked the door behind me. Luckily, our room had two showers, so I began to pull my clothes off and put them all in the dryer, turning it on as I walked into the bathroom. I took a hot shower, which felt good as opposed to the freezing one I had taken earlier. When I got out, my clothes were dry and warm, so I immediately put them back on, grabbing a water from the fridge, the magazine, a few pieces of paper, a pair of gloves, and the scissors and glue. Walking over the the table, I got to work.

* * *

I remember the light of the early morning sun flooding into the room as I finished, cleaning up my scrap and dumping it into the trashcan. I collected my materials and opened the safe in the closet, placing everything inside, including the flash drive and matches. I shut it and set the code, then proceeding to override the override code. Now, not even the hotel could get in.

So far, I was getting away with it.

I walked back over to the table and stared at the words on the two papers, writing random style, cut from a magazine. The two notes completed each other and the threat it it was subtle.

He might not be bright, but I am.

I know what you're doing. Right now, I am your greatest threat.

Simple, yet intimidating for someone with a secret, no pictures or videos yet. That would come later. But I remember clear as day what I did next, as if I had done it only minutes ago. With a stroke of inspiration, I pulled out the two permanent markers provided by the hotel, making a small shape at the bottom of a second note. A red circle, with a black line through it.

An eye. A threat from an unknown force.

And with two strokes of a pen, I signed my way into hell.


	4. Chapter 4: The Queen Of Lust

Diamonds. Hearts. Spades. Clubs. What comes to mind when I say those words? If you're like most normal people, it was probably a deck of cards. You can practically see the shine on the obsolete shapes that litter the cards in pre-chosen numbers.

But it's not just that, it's the power those four words have over your minds. The power of imagery that four words, five syllables, and twenty five letters can have. Together, they are an unstoppable force that prey upon your feeble mind, taking it over without a single act of rebellion or resistance. Because by now, you're used to it.

Diamonds. A polished stone made by heat and pressure. The physical representation of lust.

Hearts. The central organ in your body which allows you to carry out the process of life. A weak point in your body made to apply a swift death, by either love or steel.

Spades. Sharp shovels used to dig into hard earth. The threat of a battle, the threat of being buried under the weight of your emotions and scorn.

Clubs. A central place of meeting or a blunt instrument. A dagger which when used correctly can hurt worse than the blade.

Apart, they make rationality and physicality unimportant. Each symbol stuck feverishly in your mind, representing only one thing, because most humans have yet to learn the tactic of arguing with our minds. But together is where the real power is. Together decides whether the house falls or stands. The cards are my metaphor, as well as my downfall.

Led by the Jack of Clubs into a war we couldn't finish. Opposed by the Queen of Diamonds, her minions undoubtedly faithful.

The Knowing is a servant to the Jack of War. The Enemy is the child of the Queen of Lust.

And the cards are willing to turn in anyone's favor.

* * *

I was tired. I was really freaking tired. Or at least, I assumed I was. Tiredness had become such a normal part of me, it was like my nose. I knew it was there, and it was always in my line of vision, but I chose to ignore it. With a yawn, I laid my head down on my fist, resting my elbow on the two notes, flipped over so the ghosts in the room couldn't see. My body ached, my mind throbbed, the bandages I didn't remember being applied were soggy. They needed to be changed. Even my emotions hurt from being thrown around like they didn't matter. I sighed, standing up with a groan as my fingers found the papers under my elbow, gently tucking them under a cushion as I walked towards the couch. It was too early in the morning to disturb Zane. Flopping down on the couch, I pulled my body into a ball and closed my eyes, coaxing myself into a restless sleep.

It felt like only moment later when a door slammed over to the side, wrenching me out of coma disguised as slumber. "Aryan?" Someone spoke across the open suite, but to my tired brain it was practically a yell. I groaned, rolling over and mashing my face into the uncomfortable, decorative hotel pillow I had been resting my head on.

"I mean this in the most loving way," I started, my speech muffled by the pillow, "but please, piss off, Zane." I heard footsteps walk across the wood floor towards the front of the couch. I pressed my head harder in my pillow as I felt fingers brush my hair across my neck and trace up to my jawline. His palm pressed against my cheek. Months of labor, fights, blood, scratches and scars had made his once soft hands hard and rough, so I could feel every crevice and cranny. I gently turned my head, so that only my left eye was showing. He had crouched down to be at my height. He smiled softly.

"And I mean this in the most loving way possible," he said, the smile still on his face, "but are you drunk?" He ran his thumb over my cheekbone. Though his smile normally made me feel a little better, today the darkness hung over me like a shroud. I reached out with my left hand and ran my finger pads across his face until my fingers fell off the skin and onto the cool metal. What had once laid underneath was now on top. I gently traced the exposed wires and the patterns of metal around his right eye, now only a constant glowing orb of blue light, the same color as his natural eyes. I guess, to be technical, this was his natural eye. I let my finger fall down to the corner of his lip, were the skin had been removed enough I could see the hinges in his mouth and the white molar set in the artificial pink gums. Zane removed his hand from my face and grabbed my exposed fingers, tangling them with his so I could not longer touch the secret he loathed. The thing that made him different from us.

I tried to reminded him that it only made him different from the others, that I was a freak of nature, an android in my own way. Cursed as well as him to live my life until a material object ended it, but he didn't like to bring it up. He didn't like to talk about it. But it was a part of him, so I continued to not know when to shut up. Zane wants to be human and I want to not have genetically engineered super blood running through my veins. Guess you can't have everything.

"I need to fix that." I mumbled towards him, eyes still tracing over the exposed metal. He smiled again.

"You did not answer my question." He said. I rolled my eyes, trying not to snap in my state.

"Don't change the subject." I removed my hand from his and began to fiddle with the collar and buttons on his shirt, hanging loose around his torso since he had yet to button it. Zane leaned forward slightly and sniffed the air around my face. I pulled back, slightly confused by the action.

"What the hell are you doing?" I turned my head all the way towards him, my voice still groggy. He pulled back away from his lean, eyes still on me.

"You do not smell like alcohol." I shook my head slightly in my pillow.

"Of course I don't, I wasn't drinking." I said. Zane smiled again, wider this time. He put his hands on his knees as he stood up, replying to me as he went.

"I'm sure you were not." Zane flat out sucked at being sarcastic, so I could hear it in his voice as loud as I heard him in general. "Breakfast?" He asked as walked around the couch and to our small kitchen. I let out a small sigh.

"Great to know the level of trust we have in this relationship, babe." I immediately regretted adding babe to the end of that sentence as I finished. We didn't have any pet names for one another, it wasn't that we didn't like them, they were just impractical. It was Zane and Aryan, maybe Zanen and Aryanetta for when we were being serious. The closest thing we had to pet names was sometimes Zane called me Netta, and even that didn't happen very often.

Zane either didn't hear or ignored my comment as he continued to talk. "I am unsure what we have to prepare, but I am sure I can..." His obnoxiously happy morning chatter cut out, replaced by the quiet rustle of paper. I kept my eyes focused on the window across the room until I realizes what I heard. Bolting up and giving me a slight headrush, I turned towards Zane, who was studying one of my papers, the other laid out on the table. He must have saw the corner sticking out from under the booth cushion. With all the grace I could muster in the morning, I hopped over the back of the couch and walked slowly towards him. He held up one paper in his hand, the confusion showing in his one eye. "Aryan, what is this?" He asked me slowly. My heart pounded in my chest as my eyes darted over to the note, the words sinking in.

It was at that moment that I realized I wanted last night to be a dream. A nightmare, more appropriately. But it wasn't. And it wasn't a game I was playing. It was hardcore, illegal shit. A bad idea on so many levels I couldn't count them on two hands. I tried not to squeeze my eyes shut as I reached towards the paper. "Please don't ask me about that, Zane." I said, but he pulled the paper out if my reach.

"What is this, Aryanetta?" He asked again. I massaged the bridge of my nose at the mention of my full name.

Great. He was gonna fight me for this.

"It's really none of your concern, Zane." I said, reaching towards the paper again. Again, he pulled it away.

"By the looks of this, it does not seem to be any of yours either." I set my face and eyes, letting him know I meant business.

"Don't fight me for this." I said, slowly and well pronounced. A threat.

"Do not make me have to." He retaliated, making me cringe a bit. He had verbally pushed me up against the wall, meaning now I had to tae physical action. With slow breath, I began to walk towards the door, sliding my phone off the counter as I walked, but I didn't get far. Zane roughly grabbed my upper arm, making me almost drop my phone. I stealthily slipped it into my pocket as we started at one another, a battle in our heads. "Whatever trouble you got yourself into," he started, his words quiet now that we were close, "you just got me involved as well." I swallowed tightly, wanting to break eye contact and knowing that I couldn't.

"Not if I'm the one making the trouble." I said quietly, wrenching my arm out of his grasp and gathering up the papers he had been forced to drop. I walked swiftly towards the door, turning around as my fingers wrapped around the handle. Zane was where he had been a moment before, eye and orb trained on me. I squeezed my eyes shut, opening them a moment later. "I beg of you Zane, leave this alone." Zane's chest rose and fell with the quick beating of my heart.

"Make me." He whispered quietly, as though he didn't want me to hear. I felt my eyes narrow, the doorknob opening the door with a click, as I stepped out into the quiet hall, I turned back towards Zane as the heavy door began to glide shut.

"Then stay the hell away from me." I said quickly. "Because I _refuse_ to drag you into this." The door clicked shut and I ran down the hall, muttering sorry over and over again under my breath towards ears that couldn't hear.


End file.
